Destroy Me
by Evelyn Ravenclaw
Summary: Summer before sixth year, Harry must stay at his most hated professor's house. Why? Training to defeat Voldemort. But will Severus notice how Harry's life is slowly being destroyed, before it's too late? Warnings: Self harm, child abuse, alchohal and drug use, attempted suicide, and possibly torture via Voldmort
1. Chapter 1

A/N Im planning on this being pretty long. Harry's life is going to slowly spin downwards. There will be a character death or a few, but not Snape or Harry. Lots of Self harm of various types later. Mention of child abuse throughout. Attempted suicide as well. Won't be slash.

Disclaimer: Do not own HP. Creepy.

Destroy Me

Chapter 1

Harry Potter found himself in a very... Precarious? position.

You see, he was sitting in a run down, hole-in-the-wall diner in the heart of "ghetto" London at 1:00 am.

Not only that, but the reason why he was there? Well, that he didn't know, due to the fact that the man sitting across from him REFUSED TO ANSWER ANY OF HIS QUESTIONS!

The two dark haired men sitting across from each other in the germ-infested booth could be total strangers, for that was how they appeared. Not looking at each other, just reading their books or newspapers and sipping their beverages.

But these two young men did INDEED know each other, though they wished they didn't.

Harry Potter tapped his feet on the cracked black and white checkered-tile floor, trying to ignore the buzzing of the flickering lights, or the fact that the air conditioner wasn't on, or the woman selling themselves on the street...

But being fifteen, nearly sixteen, that was kind of impossible. After nearly eleven hours of sitting in the God forsaken booth, being ignored by the other man, he ground out, "What are we doing here? Sir."

The man flipped the top of his paper down, glaring back at the black messy mob on Harry's head, the sweat on the boy's brow, and the glowing green eyes through the cracked glasses.

Harry stared hard, unrelenting at the man with shoulder length greasy hair (as black as his own), and the fathomless ebony tunnels that sharply contrasted with the man's alabaster skin.

Severus Snape growled in irritation, "You will see soon enough, Potter, now shush!"

The boy took a long drag of his too thick, too strong tea, before saying, "That's what you said hours ago! Its the middle of the night!"

The older man thrust his paper down, trademark scowl in place. 'Does the bloody brat think I want to be here? With HIM?'

"Just be still for a little longer... If you can handle that," sneer replacing the glare, Snape went back to the Daily Prophet.

Harry ran his fingers through his hair, anxiously. He knew (or was PRETTY sure) Snape worked TOTALLY for the Light. But what if the Pensieve Incident pushed him over the edge and he had contacted Death Eaters to come and-

'No. No morbid thoughts for you, young man,' a voice, strangely like Mrs. Weasley's entered his mind.

Besides, most of the Death Eaters had been caught at the Department of Mysteries earlier that week.

Unfortunately, Bellatrix Lestrange wasn't one of them. The dark haired, clinically insane, bitch of a witch had killed Sirius. That stupid spell... It pushed him right through...

Harry rubbed his eyes furiously. 'Don't cry, ya idiot! You are stronger than that!'

Sirius was dead. The only person that was truly his family; someone who loved and cared for him. HIM! Not Harry POTTER. Not the Boy-Who-Lived. Or Gryffandor Golden Boy. Or Savior of the Wizarding World. Or youngest seeker in over a century. Or Parselmouth. Or the Dark Lord's obsession...

'Enough! God, think about something nice!' Hermione's voice rattled in his head.

'Like what? First my parents, then Cedric, then Sirius- WHO NEXT? Dumbledore? Ron? Hermione? Luna? Neville? Ginny? The other Weasleys? I cause only death and destruction in my wake,' Harry responded.

'Whoo... Don't go Emo on us mate...' Ron's voice mocked.

'Merlin, I think Im going insane! Talking to voices in my head. Rita Skeeter would have a field day...'

Snape shifted his paper, and (again) started to read it through. 'Honestly, is he trying to memorize it?'

Harry was hungry and exhausted, since he had barely ate or slept in the past week. Not to mention he felt slimy, but that may be due to the disgusting part of the city and the sweat that had accumulated.

"Are ye two gonna get sumthin er not?" a tired looking waitress with tall boots and a short dress greeted lazily.

Snape glared at her. "If you will excuse us, we are waiting on a business associate. Now go back to the freezer where your boyfriend-for-the-night most likely is and leave us be."

The woman looked affronted, before lighting up, puffing smoke in Snape's face, and heading back to the kitchen.

Harry tried to hide his smirk at how his teacher's face turned an unnatural red color, when gentle calming chuckles emanated from the door.

Harry stared. The man standing there had a long silver beard with equally long hair, which twinkled as brightly as his diamond-like blue eyes. The man wasn't adorning his usual colorful, oddly patterned robes, but a simple grey suit with a blue undershirt that was as shimmery as the moon.

"Professor? What are we doing here?" Harry asked immediately, practically lunging from the strangely sticky booth.

"Show some decorum, Potter... Now Albus, would you care to inform us why you summoned us to this scum-of-the-earth diner? And made us wait nearly twelve hours?" Snape ground out.

'Ah, so Snape didn't know.' The man had said as much when he picked the green eyed boy up at Kings Cross...

Harry waved miserably to his friends, gladly accepting Mrs. Weasley's hug. Sirius was dead, gone, never coming back...

"Mr. Potter," came an irritated baritone voice. "I suggest you come with me."

Harry looked at his teacher suspiciously. "Why?"

"The Headmaster requested I retrieve you and bring you to some place called, 'Sandy's Diner' for a meeting tonight. And before you ask your (no doubt) idiotic questions, I do NOT know why."

Still suspicious, but okay with delaying the return to his relative's house, Harry Potter nodded, following the man (Now dressed in a black suit) out the train station...

"I trust you two had a pleasant journey?" the Headmaster asked, reaching into his pockets, searching. "Jelly beans?"

After declining, Severus ground out, "The meeting..."

"Oh yes, quite right. My guess is you two won't be happy about this..."

"Oh, quite the contrary; Im already not 'happy'," Snape smirked.

Dumbledore eyed Harry, as the boy wiped sweat off his brow with his loose brownish-grey sweatshirt. "Harry, you are to stay at Professor Snape's house for the summer-"

"WHAT? NO, I WONT STAY AT THE GREASY GIT'S HOUSE!" Harry exploded, making the lights get brighter with his errant magic.

"I did NOT give you permission to place that arrogant selfish brat with me!" Snape hissed lowly.

"But alas, this is for the grea-for the best," Dumbledore stuttered.

"But what about the blood wards?" Harry asked desperately. Not that he wanted to go back to his relative's house, but he did NOT want to stay in Snape's 'house'. 'He probably lives in a dungeon someplace, drinking blood, sleeping in a coffin...'

"Do you want to go back to your relatives, Harry?" the meddlesome old coot asked innocently.

"Not particularly," was Growled, through clenched teeth.

"But what of my... Nighttime duties?" The Potions Master asked, making the boy blush when unbidden images came to him...

"Severus, you are a very good spy. You are in Tom's good graces, are you not?"

"Yes... But Bella is suspicious, possibly Lucius as well!"

"I believe you are too close to Mr. Malfoy for Lucius to speak any of his suspicions. Plus he's in Azkaban."

"That's not the point... With Potter there, what if Death Eaters or Draco come knocking? Or the Dark Lord gets a tip that he's there? Or I'm found out-"

"This is no time for ifs Severus," Albus said, his voice tense. After taking a calming breath, the man continued in a gave voice, "We are in a war, Severus. If we live our lives based on what ifs, then it will be our downfall. Enough of these petty grudges between you two, because like it or not, your alliance may very well influence the outcome of the war."

Said men glanced at each other, unsure.

"And," the Headmaster started bubbly, no trace of the former morose tones, "you have no choice in the matter. Harry WILL be staying at you house."

Harry bit his lip, unsure of what to say. "Why am I staying at his home?"

"You need to be trained to defeat Voldemort, of course!"

"Of course. All fifteen year olds have to go through rigorous training with a meticulous old bats to defeat homicidal maniacs," Harry muttered, rolling his eyes at Snape's glare and Dumbledore's rebukeful glance.

"Mind your manners, Potter!" Snape snapped. Then he added viciously, with a mischievous smile, "After all, You are under my...care... now."

"Severus..." Albus warned, but the younger man just grabbed Harry's trunk, dragging it out from under the cheap red table.

"No worries, headmaster. I won't harm you precious Golden Boy... without reason, that is..." At the old man's serious look, Severus sighed, waving off his concerns. "Joking, joking."

Harry glared at the man, picking up his empty owl cage and broom, leaving a tip on the table.

Snape was out the door, and Harry was heading that way when a wrinkled, but strong hand stopped him. "I need you to be good for Severus, Harry-"

"Im not five, Professor. I know how to behave," the sweaty teenager muttered, shouldering off the hand.

"You and Severus have much in common." At the incredulous look being flung at him, the man added, "Get to know him. And try to get along and not hurt each other."

"I won't if he won't," Harry sighed. Snape was tapping his foot through the door, obviously anxious to get away from the hookers that were trying to swoop down on him.

After a gentle squeeze on his shoulder, the elderly headmaster of Hogwarts shoved the boy towards the glass door. When Harry turned around to say goodbye, Albus Dumbledore had vanished.

A/N what do ya think? Good start? Should I make Snape be Harry's biological dad? Or just a guardian? How long should it take before they get along? Should they even get along? Should Ron be bad? What about Hermione? Or Luna? How will Draco fit into the equation? Will Snape be found out? Review? Yes, definitely review.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N I think I am a bit too descriptive when it comes to this fic. Oh well...

Disclaimer: Still don't own Harry Potter!

Destroy Me

Chapter 2

Harry made his way out of the diner, following Severus's brisk stride. The street they were on smelled strongly of decaying trash and stale alcohol, not to mention the rank smell of sewage that drifted up from the streets bellow. The buildings were mostly stone, with condemned signs on them, and broken windows. Snape kept casting glares at anyone trying to come with in a 20 ft. Radius of him (for which Harry was grateful).

'So I have to stay with him over the summer. Great. I wonder what potion he'll use me in...'

All of the sudden, the man whirled around. Harry took a couple steps back in shock. 'A little warning would be nice-'

"Stop lagging!" the irate man snapped.

'Even better, I get to start out my stay with the greasy git while he's menstruating.' That made the teenager chuckle. That was a very Sirius thing to say.

Sirius... He would never turn into Padfoot again. Or relive the Marauders glory. Or complain about eating broccoli. Or call Snape Snivellous. Not that Harry enjoyed the last one... But it was Sirius.

Harry hated to think about the last conversation he had had with the man. How he asked why they treated Snape that way. Because they were bored...

Dumbledore always said he was 'so full of love'. But he didn't feel that way. He hated a lot of things: Jealousy, Malfoy, Snape, his 'family', Voldemort, child abusers, etc. But bullies... They held a special place in his ball of hatred. And the moment Harry's curiosity got the better of him, and he looked in the blasted Pensieve... His favorite teacher, his godfather, and his dad joined the group.

Harry had been bullied, one way or another, his whole life: Voldemort, Dudley, Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Dudley's gang, Snape, Malfoy...

A strange thought occurred to the boy. In Harry's first year, Dumbledore had said that Snape's and James's relationship was "much like yours and Mr. Malfoy's". He truly meant it in that order: His dad and Malfoy were the bullies, and Snape and him were the victims.

Severus kept up a fast pace, ready to rid himself of the muggle attire and take a shower to rid himself of the filth that had accumulated on his skin from just being in the vicinity of this horrid place.

But he had to keep slowing down, for the boy was daydreaming, staring at the fluorescent signs that lit up tattoo parlors and bars.

Getting annoyed, he whirled around, growling as the boy almost ran into him, "Stop lagging!"

The boy was an idiot, trying to carry his broom and owl cage like that. Flicking his short ebony wand, the things shrunk, falling into the palm of his hand. The boy, so lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice!

Unbidden, Moody's voice rang out through his head: "CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

Snape had a mental checklist running through his mind of what to do once they apparated to Spinner's End:

1.) Strengthen Wards

2.) Shove Potter in the spare room

3.) A few well cast Scourifys

4.) Groceries

5.) Go over rules with Potter

And then that lead to three more checklists:

To Clean:

Kitchen

Snape's Bedroom

Dining room

Study

Office

Lab

Snape's Bathroom

(Potter can clean his own rooms)

To get at grocery store:

Wine

Porridge

Bread

Cheese

Grapes

Pepperoni

Dough

Tomatoes

Potatoes

Soap

Shampoo

Toothpaste

Toothbrush

Rules to go over with Potter:

Breakfast: 5:00 am

Lunch: 12:00 pm

Dinner: 5:00 pm

Bedtime: 11:00pm

Do all homework

Clean room

Other chores

Stay out of all rooms except your own, the kitchen, and the dining room

Snape turned down an empty alley, tugging Potter with him.

"Hey? Where's my broom? And Hed's cage?" the boy suddenly asked.

Snape glared at the boy, showing the miniature trunk, broom, and cage he had gotten from his pocket.

"Oh," the boy murmured, flushing with embarrassment.

"Yes, oh. Now grab my arm, we are going to apparate to my home." The boy did so. Snape turned on the spot, and they disappeared with a crack.

A/N I always thought about that little thing Dumbledore said in first year about James and Sev compared to Draco and Harry. So I had to include it. (-_•)

Reviews help make me fics better!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N Well, Harry is going to be having a lot of inner monolog, which is pretty entertaining. So yep!

Disclaimer: Not I do potter own harry. Rowlings am JK not I.

Destroy Me

Chapter 3

Harry felt like he was being squeezed through a colorful tube, a strange feeling of electricity flowing through him.

Then they stopped, and the younger man fell, shocked by the sudden return if gravity. His professor stepped away, as if scared he would be sick on his shoes.

Which, at the moment, was a definite possibility.

After a few calming breaths, the boy sat up to look at his surroundings.

They were on a cobblestone street, surrounded by tall, looming brick houses. Street lights were flickering, big moths swarming the golden areas

A bolt of lightning suddenly lit the coal black sky, which displayed a far off mill near a violent sea.

A roll of thunder made the boy jump to his feet.

"It storms all the time here. Get used to it," his professor growled, walking up to one of the tall dilapidated buildings on the end.

The building was much like Grimauld Place, small, but tall, in need of some serious refurbishing.

"Do you WANT to be spotted by Death Eaters?" Snape ground out, as he opened the door.

"Uh, too late, or did you forget so soon?" Harry asked sarcastically.

Snape was swooping down on him in a second. "Get. In."

Not wanting to push his already strained luck, the boy who lived quickly entered the house.

Once in, Snape flicked his wand dim candle-shaped lights sprang to life to show the entryway. The walls were pitch black, along with the tiled ceiling and floor.

Severus chuckled darkly at his expression. "To ward off unwanted guests. Like those imbecilic Christmas carolers."

Harry tried to imagine people brave enough to approach Snape and sing cheery songs, and couldn't imagine them doing it; even without the foreboding interior.

The teenager looked impatiently at Snape. 'Why are we still in the damn entrance. I want to shower and go to bed.'

But the man was waving his wand around, muttering and weaving beams of light Blue light together. Harry had never taken Ancient Runes, but he could tell thats what Severus was making. 'Wards,' his mind supplied. 'Of course, they'd have to be strengthened. With me being number one on Voldemort's hit list, and all.'

Finally, the man tucked his wand away, the lights fading away.

As he pulled out a Muggle key, stuffing it into the keyhole, Snape murmured, "You are keyed to the wards, you will not be seen as a threat. But a word of warning: Do not leave this house. I would rather not have you delivered to Albus in a match box, via the Dark Lord. Am I clear?"

"Yeah," the boy muttered, as the man escorted him in.

"You will refer to me as Sir, or Professor during these holidays. None of that, how you say, 'Greasy Git' shit. You will treat me with the utmost respect, as well as my home... And I guess I will return the favor... Potter! Are you even listening?"

In all truth, he WAS listening, but was too distracted by the house to respond.

The floors were mostly dark wood, as was the furniture. Faded dusty rugs were almost everywhere, and there were so many bookcases he lost track. And they were STUFFED! with anything from old tomes done in Greek, to Muggle fiction novels.

The kitchen was small, in need of a definite scrub down. The dining room, like the other room Harry had seen, was small, the long table and its seats barely contained in the minuscule amount of space.

The last room was also on the small side, but that was due to the many pieces of furniture: An over-stuffed couch, a winged-back armchair, a coffee table, two end tables, more bookcases, and a large sooty fireplace.

Despite the dark, dingy, and worn look of everything, it seemed at least semi-comfortable.

"If you're quite done gawking, Potter, then shall I lead you upstairs?" Severus sneered at the gobsmacked look on Harry's face.

"Er... There are no stairs..." the boy observed, but the older man merely tapped a book (Potions Masters Through the Ages) with his wand, and the shelf swung out, like on one of those spy movies Dudley always watched.

"Wicked!" the boy breathed, though that caused a coughing fit (due to displaced dust).

Snape swept past him up the creaky wooden stairs, leaving Harry to practically run after him.

The second floor he only saw briefly: There were three doors, and the hallway and landing were done in a reddish brown color.

The third floor actually surprised him.

The walls in the main area were a storm-cloud-grey color, and the flooring was, again, dark wood.

There were two doors, no doubt their bedrooms. Snape lead him to the one facing the street they entered, opened the door, and unceremoniously shoved him in. "These will be your rooms. You don't like them? To bad." And with that, Harry's enlarged possessions were tossed in as well, before the door slammed shut. "Don't leave your room!" came the shout through the door.

'Great, prisoner here as well,' the boy thought, rubbing his now bruised arm. 'At least him hurting me was unintentional.'

'Hurting?' came a Malfoy sounding drawl. 'You call that hurting? You've had worse, way worse.'

'I know, I know.'

'Don't use that tone with me, young man!' Mrs. Weasley scolded.

Feeling angry about being chastised in his own mind, Harry turned from the dark door to survey his 'room'.

It was beautiful. The walls were painted in a beige color, the carpet a darker brown to match the door. The furniture (a bed, night table, dresser, desk, and chair) was oak, the earthy smell confirming it. The heavy curtains that enclosed the tall windows were sky blue, like the comforter on his small bed.

The room was small, though bigger than Dudley's second bedroom, and especially bigger than his cupboard. Everything, like the rest of the house, was well worn, though comforting.

Biting his lip (trying to ignore the twinge of gratitude towards Snape), Harry quickly tucked his broom under his bed and sat Hedwig's cage on his dresser.

Harry went over to the other door in his room and opened it. His own private bathroom! It was nice, having chocolate brown tiled floors and walls. A sink, counter space, a toilet... Thats when his heart sunk.

A bath tub. No shower. Harry HATED baths, absolutely HATED them. But he was too tired (and if he admitted it to himself, a little scared) to ask Snape if he had a shower. So after stripping off his faded blue jeans, too big sweatshirt, socks, shoes, and undershorts, Harry wet a washcloth giving himself a firm scrubbing down, making sure to run his wet fingers through his greasy curls.

Feeling slightly refreshed, the boy pulled on his too big, grimy, grey sweatpants, and went over to his bed.

It looked too perfect: The overstuffed pillow fluffed, the creamy sheets folded over the down comforter. He touched it. Everything was fleece.

He blinked furiously. 'Why am I getting so worked up over this? Its just a bed!'

'But your family never gave anything this nice to you. Snape did. And he's your enemy!' Hermione trilled off.

'But crying over a bed? God, maybe I am over emotional, or sentimental, or whatever Snape said during Occlumency.'

'Well, we can't blame you. Nobody has ever cared about you enough to provide you with a real bed or room,' Remus's voice of reason stated.

'Snape doesn't care about me.' Then Harry added, 'Sirius would have given me a room. And a bed. And so much more. Sirius cares about me! ...cared. Cared about me.'

Slowly peeling back the soft, cool blankets, Harry slowly climbed into the bed. He fell into a fitful sleep as soon as his still damp head hit the mashy pillow.

A/N Poor Harry! The bath thing will be explained in due time, so yeah. Reviews make me =-D


	4. Chapter 4

A/N I've been writing like crazy! But I like doing that! If anyone has any ideas for fics for me to write, that'd be awesome!

Disclaimer: Was Snape alive at the end of the Deathly Hallows? Nough said.

Destroy Me

Chapter 4

Severus woke up at 4:23 am. Which was normal, despite his late night. After all, you had to get used to a minimal amount of sleep when you were both a teacher AND a Death Eater.

But never mind that fact, the reason for his waking so early was the huge ball of unease in the pit of his stomach.

Potter was in HIS house. HIS childhood house. 'Who knows what the boy will "stumble" across in one of these cupboards?'

Severus had gone through rigorous cleaning to get the disgusting house back up to par: Getting rid of mold, repainting the walls, adding rooms, ridding the house of the remnants of his horrible childhood...

But you could only do so much. It's not like Good Will would want stained sheets or shredded belts. His father's 'torture devices' were thrown in a cupboard along with the cleaning supplies. He wasn't sure WHY he kept the things. Maybe just to remind him of how far he had come from the sniveling little boy that cowered from his Muggle father.

Then there were all his Dark Arts artifacts. 'And knowing Potter, he'll probably stumble across one of them, almost get killed, get seriously injured, and then the blame will go to me.'

His potions for the Dark Lord were safely locked away in his Potions Lab, heavily warded just like the other Potter-Not-Allowed Rooms.

But what if the boy finds Lily's things: the pictures, the Christmas and birthday presents, the letters...

Those would have to be warded as well, even though they were in his already secured room.

Throwing on his black slacks, white dress shirt, black overcoat, and his black combat boots, Severus quickly cast a scourify on his hair (not that it did much good. The potions had totally ruined it...) and scrubbed his pale face, in a vain attempt to add some healthy color to his cheeks. It didn't work.

He jumped as he heard the pipes going to Potter's rooms squeak. 'So the brat's up. Great.'

Harry woke up to grey light flittering through his window. Rolling over, he glared at the clock on his bedside table, attempting to see the blurry figures without his round glasses. 4:38 am. He had only slept two and a half hours. But, like he had been since Sirius's demise a week ago, he felt like he couldn't rest anymore.

Slowly peeling off the cushy sheets, the teenager swung his legs over the side of the bed, pushing his glasses up his nose.

Stumbling over to his trunk (stubbing his toe and muttering profanities in the process), the Gryffandor pried it open, groping for a fairly clean hand-me-down t shirt and some not so baggy or stained jeans.

After grabbing what felt like acceptable clothes, he tossed them aside, fumbling for a light switch or the curtains, or ANYTHING! His fingers brushed over heavy velvet, which he hastily pushed aside.

It didn't provide much light, but it was enough. Pulling on a pair of moldy grey undershorts (and tying a piece of twine around them to prevent sliding off), Harry quickly finished with an almost fitting pair of blue jeans and a greenish-grayish-brownish short sleeved t shirt.

Harry hated the fact that all of his clothes were either:

1.) Moth bitten

2.) Hole-filled

3.) Stained

4.) Four times too big

5.) Concrete Grey, dirt brown, or grass-stain green

6.) Grimy

7.) Stained

8.) Baggy in the wrong places

9.) Just plain awkward

10.) Cumbersome

Not to mention wearing said articles was em-bar-rass-ing. In Primary School, he was always made fun of for his ruffian-like clothes, taped glasses, and overall scrawny physique.

At least at Hogwarts, they got to wear their uniforms. He wondered why no one ever questioned why he wore his uniform all the time, even on weekends. But he was grateful for it all the same.

Splashing cold water on his face, and running wet fingers through his hair again (he long ago gave up the concept of a comb or brush with his hair), Harry stared at his appearance. He was pale, slightly gaunt at the moment. His green eyes were brighter, due to the fact they were surrounded by bruise-like dark circles. The cuts on his face were almost healed; soon he could cast that damn glamour again, and nobody would be of the wiser.

After brushing his teeth, Harry replaced his glasses and walked over to the ceiling to floor window, anxious to see his surroundings.

Sure enough, there was a mill in the distance, perched dangerously on top of a hill, which lead down into a woods. The other way was an ocean, grey churning waves reminding him of that American song: The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald by Gordon Lightfoot. The sky was a steel grey color, except for the occasional golden, pink, or purple lining of the clouds.

Whatever city they were in was pretty big, bigger than the area of Little Whinging. The road they were on (Spinner's End) was where all the timeworn brick houses seemed to be. A few blocks away, Harry could see the nice big, more modern townhouses, all shutters, window boxes, and white siding. He could see the ghetto, not looking much worse than the area they were in. Last he could see the expansive housing developments and the stores. Taller buildings were farther off, obviously the main part of the city.

If he could guess, he would say Manchester, but, then again, Harry was never too good at geology.

A/N Strange ending, I know, but whatever.

Does any one have any more ideas for fanfics for me to write?

Review! /;-)


	5. Chapter 5

A/N This story is SOOOO slow moving. I'll post up to chapter eight today (I need to write that one). Things should pick up from there, so just be patient.

Disclaimer: I do NOT have the attention span to write seven big-ass books. Therefore, I do not own Harry Potter.

Destroy Me

Chapter 5

Severus swung the heavy wood door open, glaring at the teen who was staring out the dirty window.

"You're up early," he commented gruffly, causing the boy to jump, spin around, and point his wand at Snape.

Blushing, the boy tucked his wand back into his pocket, muttering, "Couldn't sleep."

"Well see to it that you do, for the last thing I need is to have an exhausted teen pass out during Occlumency," Snape commented idly, despite the true intent behind his words.

It got the desired effect.

"I will NOT take Occlumency with YOU again! You nearly made it worse!" the boy shouted, gesturing wildly with his hands.

Gritting his teeth, Severus said, "Show some respect for your superiors, Potter." Snape waved the boy out of his room.

While Potter was passing him, he heard, "Superiors my arse."

"Detention!" Snape bellowed.

"Newsflash, Snapey, but we aren't in school!" Harry shouted up, as he had already started to descend the stairs.

"In case you have forgotten, Potter, I am your guardian, as of the current, and I can punish you anyway I see fit!"

Another thing to add to his hate list. That sentence, or mostly the last part. The words echoed around and around in Harry's mind: "I can punish you anyway I see fit."

Harry wasn't sure what constituted as a 'normal punishment'.

At the Weasley's, it was chores, or loosing privileges, such as their brooms.

Hermione said her parents grounded her for a punishment.

Dudley never got punished...

Harry knew his punishments at his relatives were a bit extreme, but he was used to them.

But how would Snape react, what would he do? Harry hoped he would just have to scrub cauldrons or write lines... But extra chores he could handle. Or being locked in his room (the room, after all, was bloody brilliant!).

Harry finally reached the kitchen, grimacing at the filthiness of it. True, he didn't like the totally spotless, almost sterilized kitchen his aunt kept, but this dusty, rusty kitchen was beyond disgusting.

'Snape is a bachelor after all... That is unless he has a secret wife locked up in his room...' (A/N I love the part in Family Night by celebony that talks about Snape's secret wife, so had to use it /:-D ). Harry shivered at that thought, remembering Snape's 'nighttime duties'.

"Sit, and stop smirking like that!" Snape maundered, gesturing to the cramped table, as he took a box out of a paper grocery sack. Harry recognized it as the porridge he had to make for himself and Aunt Petunia (the beefier men preferring the fry-it-up breakfast).

Snape set a pot filled with water on the gas stove, turning the knob to the little 3.

Harry bit his lip, having learned the mistakes the box made. "Sir? You should probably turn the switch to 4, otherwise it will be runny... And add the mix a quarter cup at a time... And you should add a cup of milk and a tablespoon of sug-"

"Blast it all, Potter! If I can make wolfsbane, than I think I can manage Muggle oatmeal!" the man snapped, and Harry silenced.

It felt strange to just sit there, his dangerous Professor doing the work, so Harry stood, and started making toast with the toaster.

Severus wasn't sure WHAT the boy's problem was. The pampered brat had the gall to contradict the packaging of the porridge? Sure, Severus had never made the crap before, but it wasn't bloody rocket science? The dark man smirked at the Muggle phrase. In the wizarding world, the phrase would be that something wasn't bloody Wandlore...

And THEN, the boy just gets up and starts making TOAST! Of course, Snape was planning on doing so anyhow, but it irked him to no end that the spoiled son of Potter was walking about HIS kitchen like he owned the place! Arrogant prat.

Harry sat at one end of the worn table, chipped tea cup filled to the brim. Snape hurled a cereal bowl and a serviette at him, while setting down the pot of porridge. As Harry suspected, it was runny, an awful grey color, and smelled tasteless. Making a face, he scooped a small helping of the slush in his bowl, and grabbed a jellied piece of toast.

Slowly, he brought his spoon up to his mouth, grimacing at the taste (dirty socks). After the forth bite (and moue), Snape hurled his spoon down at the table, yelling, "If you think you can do better, making breakfast will be one of your chores from now on!" With that, the man stormed out of the cramped room.

After finishing his toast, Harry went to clear up Snape's dishes. He got a little satisfaction to see that the man had only taken one bite of the foul oatmeal.

A/N Lol. False advertising! Anyway, love the part in Family Night where celebony talks about Snape's secret wife! Makes me giggle! )*•*(

Reviews make me: |:-D)) (double chin!)


	6. Chapter 6

A/N Yes, I know. Slow moving. You want something that I mentioned in the warnings to happen. But hold your horses, I will get to it.

Harry has already hinted at the abuse, at least in his mind, though he doesn't see it that way, as most abused children don't.

I'm not sure how or when to bring up the subject of Harry's home life with Snape, so tell me what YOU GUYS want. ;-)

Disclaimer: Haven't you got the picture already? I DONT OWN HARRY POTTER! GET IT? GOT IT? GOOD!

Destroy me 6

Harry had just finished more or less unpacking, (His broom was under the bed; Hogwarts clothes folded neatly in the dresser; Marauders Map, Wand, Photo Album, Sirius's mirror, and Invisibility Cloak in his nightstand; books, quills, and parchment on the desk; Pictures were standing on his dresser; Dudley's hand-me-downs he kept in his trunk,) when Professor Snape entered, sneering at the room.

"We will be starting your training today. The... genius that is the Headmaster seems to think it... imperative that we begin with Occlumency lessons straight away... Afterwards, I shall give you letters from Weasley and Granger, that your blasted owl decided to deliver to my office." Sneer.

Groaning, Harry heaved himself off the comfortable bed, following after the stalking teacher.

A strange thought occurred to Harry: The words that perfectly described the Professor all started with an S. Slimy, Sneering, Skulking, Stalking, Sour, Sardonic, Sarcastic, Sadistic, Severus Snape.

Smiling brightly, Harry couldn't wait to share THAT with Ron. Maybe Hermione. Nah, just Ron. He'd tell Hermione that the man had just as much of a book obsession as her. 'Maybe they should get married...'

'EWWWWWW!' shouted nearly all the voices in his head.

"Clear that smirk off your face, Potter, I will have no pranks going off in my house... Speaking of which, I'm going to have to confiscate your broom, cloak, and that imbecile-made piece of parchment."

"WHAT? Why?" Harry screeched, as they descended a flight of stairs.

"Let's see: Broom, so you don't decide to go for a fly around a Muggle neighborhood; Cloak, so there will be no snooping about; And Map, because the creators were no good bullies."

"They got better when they grew up!" Potter exclaimed, as he was flung into an office that resembled Snape's at Hogwarts.

"Did they? Pettigrew became a Death Eater; Lupin was still blind; you never knew your father; and if I remember correctly, the Mutt wasn't the most mature person I've ever met."

Snape's words stung, mostly because they were true. The word Snivellous echoed throughout his noggin, his father's sneering voice hissing. But alls Harry said was, "Don't talk like that about Sirius," quietly.

"Do not order me around, Potter. We have work to do." They took the positions they had in 'Remedial Potions'. Harry tried in vain to clear his mind, but when the teacher cried, "Legillimens!" he was sucked into a line of memories:

The final task, kill the spare, Cedric dead.

Malfoy calling Hermione a mudblood, Malfoy taunting the trio about Buckbeak, Hermione punching him in the face.

Ron and him fighting, Ron calling him a spoilt brat, Harry calling Ron a jealous git.

Sirius, Bellatrix, the veil, strong arms-

The memory was pushed aside, Harry smiled at the little triumph, but tried to kick Snape out. The man was unrelenting. The teenager wondered something, and tried to give it a try...

The boy was failing miserably. Again. Memories flashed across Severus's eyes:

The man winced at his 'Master's' red glare, the viciousness that the man put into his Crucio. Having been on the receiving end, the man felt empathy towards the boy, especially at receiving a prolonged dosage at such a young age...

He felt like clouting Draco. The word Mudblood was a sore spot with the Potions Master. But he smirked when Granger familiarized Malfoy's face with her fist...

The next memory startled him, if anything how loud and how red the two teenagers could get. Severus could tell it was Potter's fourth year, given the deplorable state of his hair...

Then they were there, the Department of Mysteries, the Death Arch looming. (Why they chose THAT particular room to stage a battle in was beyond him).

But suddenly, the memory shifted to some inane one of Potter in a frilly kitchen, stirring a pot of- Oh for the love of God!

"Potter!" Snape snapped, as he withdrew. The boy was smirking cheekily at him, despite being covered in a sheen of sweat. "Was THAT really necessary?"

"I told you I knew how to make porridge," was the reply.

A/N YOU GO HARRY!

Lol.

Try saying: Slimy, Sneering, Skulking, Stalking, Sour, Sardonic, Sarcastic, Sadistic, Severus Snape, five times fast!

Reviews help your story!


	7. Chapter 7

A/N Really short, but sort of entertaining.

And just to clear something up, Harry IS able to push Snape to a different area of his mind, but not block him out totally.

Disclaimer: Bleah. I do not own the HP world.

Destroy Me

Chapter 7

Harry (after another washcloth rinse-off) settled into bed, almost smirking at the rules a very annoyed Snape had rattled off. He had irked the man sooo bad with the porridge memory...

Right. Rules.

1.) Stay out of Snape's room

2.) Stay out of Snape's potions lab

3.) Arrive at meals on time, or forget about eating

4.) Make Breakfast

5.) Keep bedroom and bathroom clean

6.) Don't leave room unless told to

7.) Do not enter office unless for lessons

8.) Finish homework

9.) Go to bed on time

10.) Never leave the house

11.) Do not talk back

12.) Do whatever told to do without question

13.) Refer to Snape as Sir or Professor

14.) Do not use profanity

15.) No underage drinking

16.) No invisibility cloaks, brooms, or bloody (insert word here) maps

17.) No snooping about

18.) No questions

19.) No stealing

20.) No lying

21.) Any additional rules, as well as the ones previously stated are to be followed, or the punishment will be rather severe and painful

'How pleasant," Harry though angrily. 'So I can breath, sleep, and eat. Yippie...'

'It's better than at your relatives, where you could only do one of the three, even though you probably had bruises that made breathing painful...'

'Shut up, Percy. You abandoned me last year.'

'Surry, mate. I know I was a fecking arse last year, as well...' Seamus said guiltily.

''s all right.'

'Wow! The Wurplesnaps have really been nesting in your mind, Harry!' Luna exclaimed, to everyones groans.

'What the "feck" does that mean?' Draco sneered.

'Wurplesnaps are conflicting emotions,' Luna explained diligently.

'To hell with conflicting emotions; I have conflicting PEOPLE!' Harry exclaimed.

'Language, Mr. Potter,' Snape sneered.

'GET OUTA MY BRAIN! Don't I have to deal with you enough as it is?'

'Uh... Its not really him, Harry...' Dean spoke uneasily.

'Uh, yeah. I knew that.'

'Sure-'

'Whatever you say-'

'Harry, you silly little psycho-'

'you!' the twins rallied back and forth.

'Ugh! Stop it, ur making me dizzy!'

'Perhaps, you should stop having conversations with the voices in your head...' Hermione offered delicately.

'Yeah, mate. People will tend to think you're crazy,' Ron laughed.

'All the best people are!' Luna smiled.

'Nicely phrased, Miss Lovegood," Dumbledore spoke.

'Thank you.'

'You are welcome.'

'Ok, now its just getting weird. So... Carry on with your own conversations. I'm tired...'

A/N Fever has risen to 100.4 F. That explains the weird chapter.

Crikey, I believe our Harry is losing it...


	8. Chapter 8

A/N Here is the next chapter! Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: Wat chou talkin bout foo? I aint ownin Harry Potta!

Destroy Me

Chapter 8

Harry woke in the middle of the night to the sound of a door slamming.

Jumping out of bed, he pulled a sweatshirt over his head, pushed his glasses up his nose, and grabbed his wand.

Holding his wand up in a defensive position, the teen quietly tip-toed down the stairs, trying to avoid squeaky ones.

After slinking out of the secret door into the sitting room, a clinking in the kitchen made the boy whirl around startled, and he crashed into something big and warm.

Snape.

"What the-" Harry exclaimed, as he fell in a heap.

"Potter! What the bloody-What are you-you are supposed to be in ur room!" The slur was not lost on Harry, making the boy inhale deeply. Yes. Alcohol.

"Sir! You-you're drunk!" Harry exclaimed, backing away from the man, wide-eyed.

"I am NOT drunk, Potter! I've only had three glasses! Go to your room before I kick ye all the way there!"

Harry stared fearfully at his teacher. The man's eyes were bloodshot, and had dark circles beneath them. His mouth was agape, bearing his teeth like a wolf. The rest of the man was rumpled and torn up.

"Were you at a Death Eater meeting? Are you oka-"

SMACK. Harry stared up fearfully at his teacher, holding his smarting cheek. Tears formed in Harry's eyes, shock and sadness creeping over him. "You-you hit me," was whispered accusingly. But Snape held no remorse as he settled down, refilling the glass.

Harry ran up the stairs as fast as he could, before slamming his door shut and flinging himself onto his bed, crying hard.

Severus blinked, grimacing at the pounding headache. What had happened the previous night?

A Death Eater meeting, he knew that. The Dark lord had served out generous helpings of Cruciatus curses.

Then he had came home, and got drunk, as usual. But why the immense feeling of guilt?

It was only then that he remembered. How the boy had surprised him, catching him in the act of getting smashed. How much anger Severus had felt staring into the accusing green eyes, so much like Lily's. And then the drunken satisfaction he had felt at the blossoming red mark on the boy's gaunt face.

Oh Merlin. He had hit him. He had HIT a CHILD! "I am not my father," Snape whispered over and over again, trying to push the memory of Potter's tears running down his bruised face, whispering, 'You hit me,' away.

Sighing, Severus wearily made his way up the stairs to Potters room.

A/N Yikes! I hadn't planned on THAT happening, but okay.

Reviews get the next chapter posted sooner! ;-)


	9. Chapter 9

A/N I'm trying to do less of Harry's inner monolog, because some people find it confusing. But to explain, he doesn't have MPD, it's just how Harry hears the different points of view in his head (such as the strict motherly views belongs to Mrs. Weasley, while the mean sarcastic degrading views belong to either Snape or Draco)

How will Harry react to Snape' apology? Will Snape find out about the Dursleys soon? Probably in a few more chapters, just to torture you readers! Mwahahahaha!

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own Harry Potter. Shocker.

Destroy Me

Chapter 9

Snape rapped his knuckles on the heavy oak door, albeit rather reluctantly. He did NOT want to have this conversation.

What on earth would he say? 'Potter, I'm sorry I hit you last night. The Death Eater meeting had been worse than usual, so I needed SOMETHING! Come on, you know how fire whiskey does to you!'

No, that would definitely not go well.

Severus downed a hangover potion while waiting for Potter to answer. Then he face palmed.

The likelihood of the boy answering his door right now was slim to none. He had to convince him.

"Potter, open the door," he snapped. To no avail.

"Stop sulking and let me in this instance!" Yeah, like that will convince him.

"Potter," Severus said tiredly, "will you please open the door?"

A few moments passed, before the door creaked open, revealing Potter standing there, fully dressed and ready for the day. With a dark, hand shaped bruise on his pale face.

The mark made the older man wince, though it was not even comparable to what his father used to do.

"Merlin... I AM sorry Potter," Snape muttered, as he took out the bruise balm.

Harry eyed the man suspiciously, unsure if the man was sincere or not. His uncle and cousin were none too smart, but his aunt used to play that 'game' when he was younger. Of course NOW, he spent the majority of the year with actual Slytherins, so he had adapted well.

But he didn't care if the man apologized or not. Snape had made it abundantly clear that he was just a more fit, smarter, greasier version of his uncle. When Harry saw the bruise balm, he glared at Snape. "I don't need your help!"

"Do you want the bruise to remain on your face?" Snape snapped, making Harry glare harder.

'I've had worse,' the teen almost said, before he caught himself. As fun as it would be to shatter the illusions of the sadistic bastard, Harry decided his wellbeing was more important than the gobsmacked look Snape would wear if Harry told about the Dursleys.

'Not that there's much to tell,' he thought. 'But to see Snape's face... I'm not so pampered and spoiled NOW, am I Snapey?'

Instead, Harry replied, "I don't care. I think it makes me look more... Rugged, don't you?" Snape's ace flushed with anger, making Harry almost take a step back. Almost.

The older man, still looking slightly hung over, thrust the jar of the bruise balm at the boy, whirling around and marching back down the stairs.

"Not a morning person, are you?" Harry muttered, before returning to his room.

Harry frowned at the mirror, glaring at the offending bruise. It was nasty, and when he received it, Snape's hand stung like hell!

And on top of that, it had surprised the boy.

'It shouldn't have surprised me so much. I saw the man last year after the pensieve incident. He looked like he could spit fire!'

'But despite his being angry, he never even looked like he was going to hit you, did he?' Draco's voice snorted in his head.

'It doesn't matter. I won't be taken by surprise the next time,' Harry said forcefully to his inner voices, and thankfully, they silenced.

But as Harry finished applying the thick goldish cream on the mark, he had to restrain the disappointed tears that welled in his eyes, the only outward sign that Harry had once again, landed in a home where he was unwanted. Not that that surprised him either. This WAS Snape, anyway.

But still, he hoped that his teacher would be better than the Dursley's. Obviously not.

Harry pulled up his normal indifferent mask and marched down the stairs, to carry on as normal.

Even if on the inside, he was a whirlwind of emotions.

A/N Don't kill me! I gotta get a couple more things in before Snape finds out about the Dursleys! Be patient!

Next chapter, Snape and Harry start to get along a little bit, and Harry receives some letters... Dun dun duhhhh.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N Yep, another chappie! And so soon too! Not really long, but you know.

And I lied. Harry will be getting letters the NEXT chapter. Whoops.

Disclaimer: I own nothing Harry Potter related... Well, I don't own the rights to anything Harry Potter related.

Destroy Me

Chapter 10

Harry sat down at the table, shocked to find food there (thankfully, not Snape's concrete-like oatmeal), but a huge array of breakfast dishes: Muffins, toast, butter, jam, waffles, pancakes, bagels, orange and pumpkin juice, coffee, milk, fruit salad, sausage, eggs, bacon...

It smelled AMAZING!

Snape looked up from his Daily Prophet, smirking slightly at Harry's stunned expression.

"Sir? Are we having company?" Harry exclaimed, slightly incredulously.

"No. I... wanted to make last night up to you... Unfortunately, I cook as well as your- I don't cook very well..." Harry could recognize the uneasiness in Snape's voice. The man was truly trying to apologize, no matter how... Strangely.

"So, I... Called a... friend of mine to help make the meal. Apparently, he decided I needed enough food to feed an army," Snape muttered exasperated.

Harry wished the man would put the blasted paper down, so he could show the man his pure gratitude at Severus's attempt at apologizing.

"Thank you sir... It uh... means a lot to me." And it did. Earlier that morning, Harry was sure the man was just doing damage control. But now... It was obvious by the way the man went out of his way to apologize, that he truly meant it.

"Think nothing of it," Snape responded, from behind the newspaper. Still.

They fell into a comfortable silence, before a loud popping startled both of them. "I trusts Master Severus is enjoying his meal?" came a very familiar high-pitched voice.

"Dobby?" Harry asked, smiling as both the elf and his teacher turned to him wide-eyed.

"Master Harry Potters, sir! It is great that Dobby is seeing you! Dobby is getting you anything yous need?"

"No! I mean, no Dobby, I is-er-am fine. Thank you," Harry blushed, as the elf practically jumped on his lap.

"Is yous sure, Harry Potters? Well, if yous be needing anything, Dobby will come real quick!" And with that, he was gone.

A strange shocked silence fell between the two men. "You know Dobby?" Harry finally asked, shocked that a pureblood Slytherin would refer to a house elf as a friend.

Snape hesitated. "Yes. Your- a friend of mine and myself were very... how you say, adamant about getting House elves equal rights."

Harry smiled slightly. "Sounds like Hermione. She set up this thing called SPEW, for the same reasons."

Snape grimaced at being compared to the know-it-all Griffandor as he took a drink of the coffee. "And how have you come across Dobby? Sneaking into the kitchens and getting food?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'd hardly call it sneaking, when the second you step in there, you're bombarded by boisterous house elves. But no, I was the one who freed him from Malfoy."

Severus had to make himself stop from doing a spit take, instead coughing slightly as he swallowed the bitter liquid. "You WHAT?"

Potter smiled a genuine smile, his green eyes sparkling with pride. "I tricked Malfoy into giving Dobby my sock!"

Severus shook his head, trying to hide a smirk. "I have no idea how you managed that, but congratulations, you tricked a Death Eater."

Harry smiled as he bit into some bacon. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. "Are you all right sir?"

Severus looked up from his plate, confused. "Of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

Harry hesitated. "I just figured-Last night-And the drinking... Were you at a Death Eater meeting?"

Severus sighed wearily, dabbing his mouth with his serviette. "Yes... The Dark Lord was unpleased at the fact that the majority of his precious Death Eaters got captured at the Ministry a week ago..."

Harry sighed. "I'm sorry."

Snape waved the apology off. "It is of no consequence. What IS important is that you seem to be blocking Him out better." Harry nodded absentmindedly.

There was a long, actually comfortable pause, before Snape said quietly, "I should get to brewing, and you to your homework. I expect better than the abysmal effort you usually show." The man sneered, back to his old self. "And I expect to see you tonight in my office for Occlumency lessons."

Harry blanched. "I thought you said I was getting better!"

"Better, yes. But we need perfection." Harry gaped. "Homework!" was snapped, and Harry marched back up the stairs (after cleaning up his dishes, of course), mumbling something that sounded suspiciously like, 'bipolar git'.

A/N Yeash, typing on my iPhone is tiring! My thumb muscles are pulsing!

... •_• ...

Well, anyway, review!


	11. Chapter 11

A/N All I can say for this chapter is Poor Harry! But before I begin:

Bloodwitch2001: ...Not gonna tell! Mwahahaha! But yes, though maybe not the hitting thing. But fights definately. It IS Harry and Snape.

Thank you for the reviews everyone! If you have ever written Fanfiction, you know how awesome it is to see that little number climb. So thank you!

Disclaimer: I ontd wno arryh otterh. Yah! Pig Latin!

Destroy Me

Chapter 11

Harry was laying on the softness that was his bed, thinking. Snape seemed actually kind of nice, but then he melded back into his old self. Harry was kind of glad; the nice Snape made him feel unnerved and edgy.

But ANYTHING was better than the post-Death Eater meeting Snape. Harry was sure if he met THAT Snape again, he would crack.

The teen wasn't sure how he felt now. He wanted to hate the man. Snape had HIT him, in a painful drunken rage, or not. He HAD.

But then the man had, not only appoligized, but 'made' him breakfast and gave him the soothing bruise balm.

'But he wouldn't have needed to appoligize if he hadn't hit you.'

'But he DID apoligize! Thats the point, uncle never does!'

'Of course he doesn't. Uncle doesn't feel guilt about hitting you. In fact, its one of his favorite past times!'

Groaning, Harry pulled the pillow over his head, trying to drown out the arguing voices in his head.

Distant thunder rumbled. Again. Snape wasn't kidding: There was barely a moment when it WASN'T storming. But Harry was enjoying the rain-free time to have the top part of his large window cracked open, letting in the warm, gentle breeze.

Suddenly, something soft... and heavy... with claws landed on his stomach, making the boy jerk up. "Hedwig! Where on Earth have you been?"

The bird tilted her head to the side, as she stuck out her foot. He smiled widely, recognizing letters from both Ron and Hermione. After untying the letters and setting them aside, Harry took the time to stroke Hedwig and feed her a few owl treats.

Finally, he leaned back against his pillow, opening the letters. He read Ron's first:

Harry Potter:

'Hmm. Strange...'

Listen, I know this may come out wrong, but I think it'd be better if we weren't friends.

Harry froze.

You see, trouble does seem to follow you 'round quite a bit, and I really want to live to see seventh year. If you defeat You Know Who before then, maybe we can hang out again, just like old times.

Well, I guess I'll see you at school.

-Ron Weasley

PS: Oh yeah, Hermione and me are goin out! Crazy, right?

Harry let the letter fall from his fingers. There would be no 'hanging out like old times,' not after THAT letter. He vaguely registered the secret meaning behind the postscript.

Numbly, the shaking teen undid Hermione's letter...

Dear Harry,

Before you read this, I just want to say this is nothing personal; you are a good kid. But most unfortunately, you are a... hazard to be around. I really have enjoyed being friends with you; we've had some laughs. But the time where Ron and I follow you blindly into trouble has past. We have grown up, but in growing up, we know we're not grown up enough for defeating Voldemort. Its not our job.

'But its mine...'

When Voldemort is defeated, we shall reconsider reinstating our friendship.

'Oh 'mione. That won't be able to happen...' Harry wiped his long sleeve under his glasses, trying to stop the blurring.

But until that time, for the sake of our safety and the safety of our families, we must part ways.

It has been fun, but it is time for us to move on.

See you at Hogwarts!

Sincerely,

Hermione A. Granger

Harry stared blankly at the letter, feeling a range of emotions overwhelm him.

Fear: He would have to face the trials to come alone.

Anger: THEY WERE JUST ABANDONING HIM!

Saddness: I really am all alone...

Suspicioun: Perhaps Voldemort sent these, just to break me?

Acceptance: It was a long time coming.

Pain: I have no one. Have I ever had anyone?

And worst of all, guilt: I did this. I drove them away. Me and my 'saving people thing.'

Finally, Harry broke out of his reverie, and jumped up from his bed, unexplained adrenalin coursing through his veins, pumping so hard as though to excape.

The teen swiped his hand across his desk, sending his books, parchment, and quills to the floor. He ripped the comforter off the bed, flinging it. He threw his possessions down angry angry angry.

His hand wrapped around Sirius's

Mirror, squeezing, begging for the man to come back-

"Potter!" Snape shouted through the door. Harry let out the breath he had been holding, letting air flow into his lungs. He felt so exhausted. "What on Earth are you doing in there?"

"Nothing sir, just fell over my chair!" Harry shouted back. Snape, thankfully, left, grumbling about noise levels and clumsy teenagers.

Harry let out a sigh of relief, before he looked down. He almost screamed, seeing the blood welling around the edges of the mirror where it had cut into his palms and fingers. Sharp hot pain zapped through his nervous system, making him hastily make his way to the bathroom.

After running the glass under the water, Harry scrubbed his hands, trying to rid himself of the blood, and stop the bleeding. Eventually, it stopped, and the teen sighed in relief. Imagine Snape's face at seeing blood in his room!

How had he got cut again? Oh yeah, grabbing the mirror. Man, that hurt, that blinding pain, somehow unlike the horrible throbbing pain his uncle caused with his fists, feet, and belt.

Why had he been grabbing the mirror anyway? Oh yeah. His friends. Overwhelming sadness bubbled up in Harry's stomach, as he brought his hands to his face to wipe away the salty tears-

He hissed. Man, did that hurt! But... At the same time, It felt kind of... invigorating. Like... It made everything better. With pain, he could be swallowed up! He wouldn't have to think, to remember, to feel...

Harry picked up the sharp piece of glass, marveling at how much more beautiful it seemed to be, glittering in the light of the bathroom. "Sirius, you're taking care of me, even after death," the boy whispered, before kissing the glass, and heading back to his wrecked room to clean up.

A/N NOOOO! HARRY, DON'T DO IT!

Harry is still upset with Snape for hitting him, he just isn't aware of the fact, therefore Ron and Hermione's (grrrrrr, by the way) letters pushed him over.

Review! ;-) And, judging by how I write, were you to guess how old I was, what would you say? Just curious... c(-:|


	12. Chapter 12

A/N I am aged between 10 and 20. No creepers please! /;-)

But seriously, thank you for the reviews. Last chapter was really hard to write because my best friend used to cut, until we staged an intervention. If you cut, or know someone who does, find help! People can help!

But this chapter involves getting into a routine. And a horrible nightmare of Harry's... So sorta boring, but a special chapter coming up... Mwahahaha!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. If I did, my name would be JK Rowlings. BUT IM EVELYN RAVENCLAW! Woot woot!

Destroy Me

Chapter 12

The next week Severus and Harry fell into an easy routine and an uneasy truce. More like the both of them avoiding each other as much as humanely possible.

Harry would wake up, have a washcloth rub down, get dressed, make breakfast, work on homework and extra defense work (to defeat Voldemort), make his own lunch, do chores (clean his rooms and the kitchen; wash dishes; do his own laundry), more homework, have supper, Occlumency lessons, go to bed. Severus's schedule consisted of making potions, writing his syllabus for the next school year, and worrying about his Death Eater duties.

But the house was small, even given its three stories. And keeping those two locked up together for any length of time... it was more or less turning them into beta fish.

Harry sat bolt upright in his bed, hand in his mouth as he bit down, trying to stop the screams from escaping his throat.

It had been a horrible dream. One involving Voldemort and himself... and everything went wrong...

***Flashback***

"Harry Potter. How... unexpected," the man had purred.

"What do you want from me?!" Harry had cried desparately, pain seeming to seep into every pore of his body.

"You?" the man sneered, before coming forward, bending down nose to nose with Harry, stroking his scar-free face. "Oh, Harry, Harry, Harry... I want your tears."

All of the sudden his glamours fell and he was in his old cupboard. And it was so dark and hot and small... Harry cried and cried, hot tears dripping off the end of his nose, his hands pulling jerkily at the tattered grey rags that were his shredded clothes.

And suddenly he was jerked out of the darkness into a bright place filled with... flashes? Oh God...

"Harry Potter! How does it feel to be beaten by a Muggle?" shouted out a voice from the reporters.

"Mr. Potter? Did you deserve what you got for burdening those normal people?" came another voice.

"Harry," came Rita Skeeter's voice, as usual, cutting straight through the other voices easily. "Is it true that you're a big fat FREAK?"

Harry opened his mouth to deny, but Ron's voice interrupted. "Of course he is. Why do you think we abandoned him?"

"And of course he deserved every bit of treatment he got. I mean, think of those poor Muggles; having to give up so much just for their FREAK of a nephew?" Hermione laughed out, sounding like Bellatrix. Harry stared at his ex friends, mouthing apologies to them about being an awful friend.

Tears were streaming down his face by now, as he cowered beneath the accusing glares of the interviewers, who were now joined by all of Hogwarts staff and the student body.

And there Snape was striding forward, a warm gentle smile on his face. Harry reached up to him like a young child would his parent, wanting to be rescued.

Suddenly, Snape's mask morphed into an evil sneer, as he swung back a heavy leather belt, ready to strike...

***End Flashback***

Tears were falling freely from Harry's eyes, as he rocked back and forth, holding the fleece sheets to his bare chest.

He was so cold. He wanted some warmth, to feel loved, but that wouldn't happen. Ever.

Everything was his fault. He knew it was. 'Mum, Dad, Cedric, Sirius... Oh Sirius!'

Harry would give ANYTHING to not feel the horrible pain that was engulfing his heart. Just to feel... numb...

Slowly and shakily, the boy grabbed the large piece of jagged glass from beneath his pillow, running his shaking fingers over the edge of the shiny object.

He placed the sharpest part on his wrist, shivering as he traced it across his veins... before pushing harder making the bright red bubble up from the jagged line.

He sighed in relief, as the sharp hot pain made him forget...

Severus lay in his bed, glaring at the darkened ceiling, feeling annoyed by the strange unease that had settled into the pit of his stomach.

Severus was in a horrible mood. One week. One WHOLE week of Occlumency and the Potter brat had YET to throw him out of his mind. Push him into unimportant memories yes, but not push him out totally.

Snape knew there was a more... dangerous way to teach him that method, but he wasn't that desperate yet.

Yet.

But he knew if the boy remained like this, only half knowing how to Occlude, the Dark Lord would try to possess him again. And Potter wouldn't come away as unscathed this time.

Speaking of Potter, the boy HAD been staying out from underfoot, and seemed to get all of his chores done; a surprise, given the fact that the brat probably hadn't ever done chores before.

After the hitting incident, Severus was trying to at least be civil to the boy, but even that was proving to be challenging: The brat just looked so damn much like his father!

Severus actually had to stop himself from cursing the boy into oblivion. Or even just calling him James.

But he had to admit: The boy was a whole lot quieter than James.

A/N Oh Harry. I know, you guys want Sev to find out about Harry soon, but I don't really want to rush this story. And you'll like it a whole lot better too! ;-D

Review! Hehe!


	13. Chapter 13

A/N a shorter chapter, but meaningful. A sick feeling, some more alcohol, a fight, another hit, some painful words, and more self destructive Harry.

Fun fun.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I didn't even like the name Harry before I read the book! ;-)

Destroy Me

Chapter 13

Harry woke up to crusty eyes, a sore head, and an unsettled stomach. He felt so bloody awful...

Harry glanced down, wincing at the angry red lines that ran across his wrists. Dried blood crusted over the wounds, making them look even worse.

Slowly, Harry rolled out of bed, stumbling to the bathroom. After a quick rub down (again. He would need to address the whole shower situation soon) and brushing his teeth, Harry quickly scrubbed the dried blood off, causing the wounds to leak a bit, but they looked less obvious.

The air seemed a bit chilly, so it was the perfect excuse to wear the loose yarn-woven black sweatshirt that he had 'stolen' from Sirius's house.

'My house now,' the thought came unwillingly, causing Harry to choke back a sob. Snape didn't need an emotional teenager on his hands; he had enough to deal with.

In his short time of living with the man, Harry had developed a grudging respect for the ex Death Eater turned spy. He went through a lot, especially with being a Death Eater. Snape never talked about the meetings, but the way the usually stoic man behaved afterwards... Harry knew they probably weren't pleasant.

As the nauseous feeling bubbled up again, Harry decided to ask Snape for some Stomach soother, and went downstairs.

Pain wracked Severus's body as he slumped into his chair. It had been a late, horrible, Cruciatus-filled night. He had downed a Cruciatus potion, along with several shots of his strongest firewhiskey to forget about the horrible tortures he had to watch and participate in.

Snape didn't even realize that Potter wasn't up at his normal time, before he saw the bookcase door swing open.

Severus looked up, glaring with bloodshot eyes as Harry finally made his way downstairs. "You're late."

The boy shrugged, making Severus grind his teeth. "Wasn't hungry. Hey, do you happen to have-"

"Going on a hunger strike, are you? Trying to earn sympathy from your adoring fans, eh Potter?" Snape sneered, causing the tired looking boy to snap.

"What's stuck up your arse this morning?" he growled, turning into the kitchen to go find a potion himself. But he didn't get far, because he was whirled around, and held tightly around the upper arms. Snape's furious face was inches from his own. "Don't. You. Dare. Disrespect me. In. My. Own. HOUSE!" was roared. Harry vaguely registered the smell of Anti-Cruciatus potion mixed with alcohol, before he felt the cuff to his head.

Harry blinked, before shouting like he never had before. "YOU BLOODY BASTARD! WHY THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU NEED ALCOHOL? ISN'T THE FREAKING POTION ENOUGH?!"

But Snape just stood there dazed, eyes glazed, breathing irregular. Then he dropped back into his chair, face in hands, fingers wrapped up in his greasy hair. "Merlin Potter. You just know how to bring out the worst in me, don't you."

Harry's glare faltered a second. Was Snape REALLY trying to pin this on HIM?!

"Honestly. I've never had problems like this before. Ever. You stupid arrogant little brat." Snape didn't shout, but his words were speaking volumes. Harry was slowly backing away, as Snape's bleary gaze stared at him sadly. "Why must you turn me into the villain. I'm just trying to do what Albus wants of me: Training you, but a lot of good that's doing. Its just a waste; you don't try, nor listen... You-you just need to stay out of my way. Just-stay away."

A choked feeling developed in the emerald eyed boy's throat. "S-sir-"

"Did you not HEAR ME?! Go! Leave! Stop BURDENING me with your presence!" Snape bellowed, gesturing towards the hidden staircase.

Harry didn't speak anymore, just turned and marched up the stairs, pinching the cuts on his arm, welcoming the pain that brought the numbness.

A/N another chapter. I know, short, but I think I'll write down a few chapters to post soon. So yep. On to Dying, All of Us!

Review!


	14. Chapter 14

A/N Shortish chapter. A look into Snape's past, Harry acting rather... numb, and pealing skin. Yay!

Disclaimer: Uh, if I owned Harry Potter, Mr. Snape would be in it a LOT more; he and Harry would get along; Dobby, Moody, Remus, and Sevie would still be alive; Vernon Dursley would get his; Harry would marry Luna; and my dearest Draco would become friends with Harrikins as well. So, obviously, I do not own Harry Potter.

Destroy Me

Chapter 14

Severus Snape rushed up the stairs worry etched into his face. If he did something-

'Please, PLEASE! For the love of Merlin, PLEASE, let the boy be unharmed!' his mind screamed as he barreled up the narrow stairs, skidding to a halt outside Potter's room. He quickly strode in.

"Potter?!" Snape growl-yelled.

The boy sat bolt upright in his head, eyes wide as he looked at Snape.

Severus didn't see any injury, but he couldn't bring himself to inquire further. His throat felt dry and overly mucus-ed at the same time.

"Pot-Har-I-Death Eater meeting-drunk-did I?" Snape asked, making a face at his wording.

Harry looked at him for a long time, staring hard into his black eyes. "No. I stayed up here the whole time," he said monotonously .

Snape narrowed his eyes, disconcerted to see the lack of emotion in Potter's face. "Uh huh... So you did not eat?"

Harry shook his head slightly, muttering something about "not hungry".

Severus rolled his eyes. "I'm sure. Come along."

Harry stood, silently following Severus down into the kitchen, looking around wide-eyed at the state of the downstairs. Snape grimaced.

"I'll clean this up."

Severus looked at the boy shocked. "No, I do not expect-"

"I know, I just... don't know," Harry muttered slowly. Severus rolled his eyes.

"Very eloquent. I will start on dinner," Severus said, as he gestured to a cupboard. "Cleaning supplies are in there. If you need help, ask."

"I could make supper too?" Harry offered.

Severus gave him a weirded-out look. "Did I Confund you?"

Harry laughed a fake laugh. "No. Just trying to be helpful." 'And not a burden.'

Severus still shook his head, and went to make supper. As soon as he left the room, Harry let his true emotions show.

One was confusion. 'Does he not remember last night?'

Another was anger. 'Bloody bastard! If he's so €§¢*‰¿! Worried about hurting me, maybe he shouldn't DRINK IN THE FIRST PLACE!'

Sadness was also there. 'He can't even remember to apoligize. And if he could, would he? And if he did, would he mean it?'

Harry sighed in annoyance. His Savior, as he was calling it, was up in 'his' room. He wouldn't be able to feel that wonderful numbness until later.

Harry sighed, once again, before assessing the damage. A few broken chairs, a few de-stuffed pillows, that wasn't that bad. But the paperwork and all the glass and spilt whiskey... That would take a while.

Harry started on gathering the papers, which was proving difficult. They were EVERYWHERE!

"Merlin," Harry muttered, as he found (yet ANOTHER!) shredded Potions Journal. "What the hell does Drunk Snape have against books? Hermione would flip!"

A deep chuckle behind him, caused the boy to whirl. Snape looked at him amusedly, as Harry blushed, going back to work. Snape spoke. "Supper is ready, unless you'd rather have another invigorating discussion with my abused literature?"

Harry shrugged. "I already told you; I am not that hungry."

Severus rose his eyebrow, scrutinizing the boy. "That question was purely rhetorical. Come along."

'I am not a bloody dog!' Harry thought, pushing another stack of papers onto the couch, before walking into the dining room.

A huge pot of potato soup and a fresh batch of sweet smelling bread was on the table.

Harry sat down at the opposite end rather stiffly, keeping his eyes trained on Snape.

If his emotions were confused over the man before, they were completely discombobulated now. Snape was so... bipolar. There was no other way to describe the constant shifting of voice tones and feelings. The man was a complete mental case.

But Harry just sighed, slowly eating a little bit of the soup, dipping the heavy bread into the creamy broth from time to time. His stomach felt bloated, though, after only half a dozen bites. He rubbed it and his forehead, tiredly, wondering if he had somehow contracted something.

"Mr. Potter. Are you feeling under the weather?" Snape asked, voice devoid of any emotion. Harry felt so... everything at the man. Why did he have to constantly toy with his emotions, giving him false hope, false security. This was just some elaborate game to Snape, and Harry knew it. The man was a master of control, he hardly lost his anger, but never showed anything else. The man was so closed off from everyone and everything, that he found joy in destroying Harry's sanity.

'Maybe he's more like Aunt Petunia than Uncle Vernon,' he thought, fighting a smirk at how the man would react being compared to lowly Muggles.

The boy stared down at the worn table for a long moment, before looking up, murmuring, "No, sir."

Severus scrutinized the boy. He figured if he cast Legillimens, he'd get nothing but the boy's own jumbled thoughts. Why the boy was so mixed up, he didn't know.

"You wouldn't lie to me... would you, Mr. Potter?"

Harry stared him straight in the eye, a mask of blankness bleeding over his features. "No Sir."

Severus looked at the boy across from him, tiredly. They had a half hour of Occlumency, before practical defense lessons. The Ministry had agreed to let the boy practice over the summer, seeing as the boy was supposed to be their 'Savior'. Frankly, Severus thought this a very unlikely scenario... that is, unless meddling Headmasters, well... meddled.

But, anyway, his potions lab had been cleared out, leaving plenty of dueling room.

But before they got to the fun part, they had to survive through another grueling Occlumency lesson. Fun.

"Okay, Potter," he began tiredly. "Lets get this over with." The boy stared up at him, his face seeming rather defiant. "Legillimens."

Nothing.

"Legillimens!"

Nothing again!

What was going on?

"Potter!" he snapped, making the boy turned his cold eyes to him. "What are you doing?"

The boy looked vaguely surprised, but the emotion didn't remain. "I assume, sir, that I am Occluding."

Severus shook his head. 'No one is incompetant the previous night, then perfect the next. Not unless...'

***Flashback***

Albus Dumbledore stared sadly at the boy before him. "Come on Severus, we both know you can do it," the old man prompted the nineteen year old. He was tired beyond belief. His newly appointed spy was having troubles with his Occlumency powers... A strange thing, since the Princes were direct descendants of Rowena Ravenclaw, a natrual Occlumens. Of course, the man had gotten a T in Divination, as well.

The boy was at least a head shorter than him and quite thin, the lengthy awkward limbs and hair made the boy seem very disproportional. Severus pushed the long strands of stick-straight black hair back from his flushed face. "I AM trying!"

Albus sighed. "You MUST try harder. It is imperative to the Order and your own well being that you master Occlumency."

"Don't you think I know that?" Snape spat, rubbing his aching forehead.

Albus was starting to get aggitated. Did the boy not think HE was tired of these long and painful lessons? Did Severus not understand it was ripping his heart out to see the memories of the child's horrible home life, the relentless bullying of the Marauders, how the young Slytherin suffered in silence.

"Again. Legillimens!"

A few days later

Albus Dumbledore stared at the emotionless man in front of him, smiling slightly.

"Congratulations, Severus! You have become an accomplished Occlumens!" he gushed, smiling brightly at Severus. But the man showed no reaction, his face carved stone, his eyes empty coals.

"Severus?"

"Indeed I have. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a funeral to go to," Severus said blandly, as he left.

***End Flashback***

Severus hated that memory, the memory of how he was able to learn Occlumency: By becoming numb, and closing everyone off.

Lily's death had effected him. And the fact that the Headmaster asked him to come to yet another lesson (the day of his Lily's funeral, no less) had been the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back.

That was when he figured out the secret to learning Occlumency.

Mistrust. Numbness. Hate.

The fact that the brat trusted him in the first place was surprising. But what had caused the sudden mistrust?

"Mr. Potter. Earlier you said you wouldn't lie to me. Now tell me the truth. Did I...hit you again? Or anything of the sort?" he tried to keep his tone nonchalant, but failed epically.

Potter looked him straight in the eye, dull emotionless green irises not portraying anything. "Of course not, sir. Why would you ask?"

Severus glared at the boy. "I won't have any of your cheek, Mr. Potter."

"Of course not, sir," Harry answered, eyebrows raising.

They both stared at each other, as though challenging the other to talk. Snape finally muttered, "Fine. Lets begin practical defense."

The two walked to the empty potions lab, a small room like all the others. But without the huge old furniture, it seemed much larger. "All right, Potter. You are going to be learning defense. Obviously."

Harry rolled his eyes, crossing his arms, but not speaking.

"The three spells that are essential in a duel, happen to be the most simple ones: Petrificus Totalis, Stupify, and Expelliarmus." Harry nodded.

"Of course, those are just Offensive spells. The two most common Defensive spells are Protego and Finite Incantatem." Harry barely suppressed a flinch at the loathed Defense spell. The one if cast at him powerfully enough, could bring forth all the secrets he was trying to hide.

"We are going to duel, but using only those spells. The best duelers can do the most with the least," Severus muttered, flinging off his black button up overcoat. He started to roll up the sleeves on his dress shirt, but froze.

Harry caught sight of the dark mark, wincing. It was a bright, inflamed red, with several marks around it... scratches? But Snape yanked down his sleeves, a glare cast, daring the teen to say anything.

"All right. Face me, and bow," Snape muttered, rolling his eyes. "A rather stupid concept, since you most likely wouldn't bow to a Death Eater (NOT COUNTING ME!) or the Dark Lord, in a duel."

Harry nodded, a little color draining from his already pale face. "Bow to your death," he muttered dully.

Snape paused, "The Dark Lord?"

Harry gave a stiff nod, looking down. His professor studied him for a minute, before muttering, "Nonetheless, you are to demonstrate proper wizarding etiquette in these training sessions."

Harry nodded, bowing only slightly, his eyes not leaving Snape. The man did the same.

They quickly assumed dueling positions, and Harry couldn't help but let a small smirk slide to his features. 'He looks like he's trying to be a ninja, or something!'

"Expelliarmus!" Harry shouted, but it was deflected. All of the sudden, Harry toppled over, stiff from a body bind. Snape stood over him, raising an eyebrow.

"Do you know how I won?" No answer. Obviously. "To put it simply, I did not go hollering around my spells. Again."

Harry stumbled into his room late at night, the sickness he was feeling earlier even worse. He glanced in the mirror, glaring.

All of the sudden, it looked t though a layer of his skin was peeling off. He yelped, stumbling backwards. But it didn't reveal his blood and muscles and tendons...

Harry gasped. His most recently applied glamour had fallen.

His wounds weren't that many, or that bad. Just a few scars from the DOM and Umbridge's won-der-ful quill became visible. But his complexion!

His face was so pale, almost white! Expect for his cheeks which were a deep red color, and he looked as though he had two black eyes. His eyes themselves were bright, yet glazed with fever.

He brought a shaking hand up, trying to recast his lifeline, but nothing appeared. He was too weak.

Harry gripped his stomach, as a sudden round of nausea rippled through. He threw up all over the bathroom floor, coughing and crying at the burning pain in his throat.

He lay gasping, dark spots blinking in his vision. His last conscious thought was: 'Is that blood?'

A/N Yeah, I know. Evil Author who creates cliffhangers. But alas, it is a very good place to end.

Review button + you = faster updates!


	15. PLEASE READ

A/N This isn't an actual Chapter, just saying.

First order of business, I am sooooo sorry for my long Hiatus. School started, I couldn't figure out how to continue, etc, etc, etc.

I started up another account (Pozagee) and have been writing under that name.

You see, I read through the stories on here (this profile) and was disgusted! I couldn't believe how bad at grammar and actual story lines I was! And the Harry abuse in these...bleah! I made it totally unrealistic!

Anyway, my writing has drastically improved since then. Therefore, I offer you (the readers) a few choices:

1.) I take down these stories, edit them, and repost them here (under Evelyn Ravenclaw).

2.) I take down the stories, edit them, and repost them under Pozagee.

3.) I edit the chapters, then "replace" the chapters on their corresponding stories, on here.

4.) I keep them as is, and they never get completed.

Its your guys' choice. But if you do choose the "change them" option (any of them), the changes won't be HUGE! There will be some plot changes, less abuse, MORE plot, longer chapters, better grammar/spelling, etc.

So please review/PM me to tell me what you think.

Thank you for your patience!


	16. The Decision

Hello all. I had many responses telling me to do different things for the stories. I decided that I will take down and repost the one-shots on my new page, and leave the multi-chaps as they are, up here. However, I will be editing them anyway, and posting them on my new page. They will be better, and different, but have similar concepts and such. The reason for me doing it this way is people liked both ideas.

Anyway, if you would like to find the one-shots, the better versions of these stories, and my other stories, visit the author Pozagee. Thanks!


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